


out of habit

by ironicsopsychotic (delightisadream)



Series: the more you think of me the more i'll manifest [2]
Category: House of Anubis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cheating, F/M, alternating povs, i cANNOT STRESS HOW UNDERDEVELOPED THIS MYSTERY IS, nina comes back oops, no kt, set in s3 but like. MY s3 in this au, victor and trudy are scarce, willow's mentioned in one sentence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24366883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delightisadream/pseuds/ironicsopsychotic
Summary: how do you move on from a mistake when the mistake is staring you in the face, holding you at gunpoint, reminding you that it was never a mistake to begin with? simple: you don’t. it holds you hostage. and you do it again.// follows default setting, au continuation where nina comes back (i cannot stress enough how unimportant and underdeveloped this s3 au mystery is. if you’re looking for some big plot, move on bud.)
Relationships: Nina Martin/Eddie Miller
Series: the more you think of me the more i'll manifest [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1651237
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	out of habit

**Author's Note:**

> i'm really not sure how this is 11k.
> 
> i never had any intention of continuing default setting—honestly. but then i got more ideas, and now i have four parts l o l. i love this universe. i love them.

It was harder than he expected.

The second he landed in Liverpool, there was his dad to take him back to Amun. They had a weird hug, somewhat forced but trying, and on the way to Anubis House there were so many openings to tell him. Eddie _thought_ about telling him, he seriously did—and not just about his mom involved in the dating scene. He thought about telling him about Nina.

He’d only considered asking his mom for advice once following the wedding. It was the night he got Nina’s second to last email, detailing how she was staying in America and she wanted him to have fun at school and blah, blah, blah. His stomach was sinking and his mind was whirring with a single thought: _What am I going to do?_ His pulse was spiking and he’d slammed his laptop shut, nearly pushing it off the bed and breaking it into a million pieces if only to mirror how he was feeling internally. He’d never had a panic attack, but some part of him had begun to wonder if that was what one felt like. He desperately needed someone to talk to, and the only person that he could interact with right then was his mother. But then she had come home from a date and yelled at him to clean his room and stop being so harsh to _Alfonso,_ and the yearning for motherly advice went away while the sick feeling simmered beneath the surface.

Which was why he held his tongue on both fronts and conceded to tell his father about _Alfonso_ on their father-son dinner night in a few days. He already had to tell everyone in his house that Nina wasn’t coming back; might as well strike out on both firsts of the school year.

His dad wanted to accompany him through the entirety of school grounds, seeing as the parental secret had been blown long ago, but Eddie convinced him to drop him off at the gate and go fix up his office himself. Actually, his exact words were, _“I’m sure you’d much rather sniff some number two pencils in your office, Dad, but thanks,”_ but the vibe was the same.

He sorely regretted that as soon as Fabian had latched onto him and asked if he’d seen Nina at the airport. His first taste at keeping the secret had sent a rumbling, seasick feeling through his stomach, but also served to understand that he wasn’t _lying,_ per se. No one was going to ask outright if they cheated, no one would even reach that conclusion with Nina in another country. He was just withholding the truth.

It didn’t make him feel better.

Listening to Joy’s outcry at his and Patricia’s breakup didn’t help either, but that he was at least used to. Everyone was in everyone’s business at Anubis, romantic or otherwise, and Joy was the captain of their fucking ship. It still put a bitter taste in his mouth.

Dinner that night left him feeling directionless, unsure where to sit even when both Fabian and Jerome were jockeying him to be by them. He wanted to be by Patricia, wanted to avoid Fabian at all costs, and wanted to be out of sight of all the couples seeing as he was no longer part of one. He ended up in between the guys, across from Patricia, and slowly going out of his mind. The knock at the front door was almost a relief, so much so that when Trudy went to go get it he shot out of his seat and offered instead. Leaving the room allowed him a moment to cool down, to collect himself.

So when he opened the door, he wasn’t prepared at all. All summer long he’d been dreading returning to Anubis House, tearing his hair out over the new secret he’d have to bare alone like wearing a tattoo of an ex-lover post-breakup. He’d turned it over and over and over in his mind, and by the time he actually arrived back at school he’d half convinced himself he could do this. He could be _that_ guy, the one who slept with his best friend’s girlfriend and got away with it. He could move on from that as a lesson, a lesson to keep his emotions in check. He’d freaked Patricia out enough for her to break up with him after coming the whole way to America, he’d scared Nina off after their one night stand. He’d had the rest of the summer, the whole _fucking_ summer to cope with that.

And then she was standing in front of him, hand raised to knock like she didn’t belong in the house, like she hadn’t been the original American to board there.

His throat went dry.

Nina managed the most awkward smile he’d ever seen her don, and he automatically filed it away as one of the many faces he shouldn’t have been privy to. “Hey,” she said, voice as light and upbeat as it could be.

Her eyes kept skittering across his face, waiting for him to say something back, to call out to their friends—hell, to move aside so she could enter the house. But all he could muster was, “Hi,” and swallow down the realization that dealing with this secret alone would’ve been so, _so_ much easier than this.

* * *

The rest of the house had such a warm welcome to her, all arms out and grins and even _Jerome_ congratulated her when she explained how her gran had made the move to Liverpool during a good health streak. 

Fabian kissed her when she reached him amidst the crowd, skipping over the awkward preamble from last year. She would’ve appreciated it—would’ve melted into it, actually—had she not felt someone’s eyes trained acutely onto her back. The smile she sent Fabian’s way was fake, but the intensity of her racing heartbeat was not.

The table quickly resituated to fit her in, Alfie picking up practically the entire table to save his food from being relocated. She’d laughed and reassured him… and swallowed down a curse when Fabian moved over instead of letting her sit between him and Alfie. She sat on the other side of her boyfriend, knee within knocking distance of the boy she knew more intimately than who she was dating.

Patricia looked a little worse for wear, something Nina tried not to focus on. She knew she had no part in however Patricia was feeling, but with Fabian so close and sending small smiles over to her, it was hard not to imagine the heartbreak both of the Brits would be subjected to if they knew.

The one highlight of dinner was Amber gushing over a summer internship at a fashion school and Jerome’s asshole remarks about it, to which Amber had bit back much harder than anyone expected her too. By the time she was done roasting him in front of not only Mara but the entire household, Trudy and Victor included, everyone was in tears from laughing so hard. The rest of the meal flew from there.

Everyone trickled out when all the food was gone, and Nina found any reason to stay behind. She didn’t feel prepared to be around any of her friends one-on-one just yet. Alfie and Joy stayed in the living room for a little while, but once they left even Fabian had retreated to his room to finish unpacking. Then she realized who was still there, cleaning up while Trudy was upstairs discussing new term matters with Victor.

She hadn’t meant to be the only other person left in the kitchen, but her body was itching for something and he was right there and muscle memory was a _bitch._

“So how were your reunions?” she tried casually, picking up a discarded dishcloth and folding it despite being fully aware no one had chores the first day back. Trudy needed all the help she could get. _We all do._

“Try again,” he said in a faux happy-go-lucky tone. He continued clearing the table, fingers nimble and quick.

Unsure what to do with that reaction, she set aside the dish cloth and grabbed another one, focusing on its corners. “...Were they bad?”

“Nina.” She looked up at that, took in how serious he was. He’d set the dishes aside and inhaled, seemingly working up the courage. It set her on edge a bit. Finally, his lips parted and he asked, “Why didn’t you update me?”

“What?” The second it was out of her mouth she knew what he meant, but he was already answering.

“The second to last email I got. You said you were staying in America.” He paused to indicate how thrown for a loop he was. _“America.”_

Her eyes jumped back and forth between his, searching for something she wasn’t finding. Her fingers stilled on the dish cloth and she glanced down before finding him again and posing, “Would you really have wanted me to tell you I was coming back?”

He stared at her for a long while, but no response ever came. Sighing, she looked away again.

“Then don’t act like I’m so… _this_ is so unwelcome,” she corrected, the irritation setting in. She shouldn’t have had to feel out of place at Anubis House, even forgetting that she was here before him. This was her home, plain and simple. These people were her family. She shouldn’t have had to feel like an outsider because of one little mistake.

At that he scoffed, expression incredulous. “I don’t know what to do.” He moved to grab another dish, then stopped and looked at her imploringly. “Do you?” It was mocking, that much she got. But they needed a real answer.

“Can’t we just… I stay upstairs, you stay downstairs?” The solution wasn’t perfect, not even close to possible either. But it was something. Because the only real solution was to go back in time and stop herself from sleeping with him, stop him from sleeping with her, stop each other from wanting to feel _safe._ And they couldn’t do that.

He didn’t glare exactly, but the look he gave her was nothing like the tender, attentive looks she’d been on the receiving end of before. “See, the problem with that—besides _everything—_ is that Patricia is upstairs. And Fabian is downstairs.”

She pressed a palm to the counter and said through gritted teeth, “I _know_ that—”

“This was bad enough when it was just me, alright,” he said, lowering his voice conspiratorially. He was looking her dead in the eyes and, despite his words, a tingle shot up her spine. “Now that you’re back? Screw that. The whole world’s about to end.”

The way he said it wasn’t some spur of the moment thought. It was clearly something he’d been chewing on all dinner long, stomach flipping and flipping like hers was. Her eyes narrowed automatically, her insides turning to lead. The whole _world_ wasn’t about to end. If anything, it already had. From here on out they had a chance for a fresh start, a clean sleight. That’s what she intended to tell him, but that’s not what happened.

It slipped out of her mouth before she could think to keep it inside, to not reference their past. “If you think you’re the only one fucked up by this, you’re not.” And then she was turning on her heel, leaving the room and sneaking up the stairs as quietly as she could. If Fabian saw her right now she didn’t know how she’d act, not when the only person she’d ever had sex with was in the kitchen.

* * *

Staying out of her way was as difficult as he expected. Nina was the main focal point of Anubis, her Chosen One status naturally inviting attention and affection. Avoiding her was like avoiding half the house, Victor included. 

At first he tried to deflect by claiming he was giving Patricia some space post-breakup—he really was thankful she had made it sound mutual—but that lost its meaning once his ex-girlfriend switched to hanging around Joy and Alfie more often than not. Nina was only around Alfie a small percentage of time, and thus, his alibi was useless.

It wasn’t that he wanted to stay away from her so much as he was _upset_ with her. He didn’t understand how she could be so kind and attentive all summer long, fuck him at the wedding, and then completely shut him out once she knew she was staying behind. Even a courtesy email would’ve been acceptable, a simple _“Hey just so you know, I_ am _coming back to school and you won’t have to keep our cheating a secret by yourself!”_ would have sufficed.

Instead, she hadn’t updated him since her second to last email. And the last one?

He couldn’t take his mind off it.

* * *

When the mystery started up, she hadn’t anticipated her first reaction.

For the past two years, she’d rushed to Fabian’s side as soon as something supernatural happened to her. The attic was easy, seeing as he was already worried about her to begin with. Senkhara’s mark was natural; he’d been the one in her dream initially. But this year, when she only heard voices within the school and not in the house, her destination wasn’t her boyfriend. Maybe the change in location messed with her, confused her mind and body.

Or maybe she wanted an excuse to see him.

After the second class of whispers filling her head, the bell rang and she burst out of the room, nearly bowling over a couple freshmen. It didn’t deter her from rounding a few corners, ignoring the hello Mara called out to her, and beelining toward his locker.

Eddie’s head snapped up as soon as she grabbed hold of his locker door, more to steady herself than to get his attention. “Wha—”

“Have you been hearing voices?” she asked, breathless from excitement. No, scratch that: intrigue. She wasn’t excited to speak to him. She was intrigued by the reappearance of her powers.

His eyes narrowed and he faced her head on, voice quiet. “Why, have you?”

She gave him a look, tilting her head. “Yes! Why else would I ask?”

He started to open his mouth, then shook his head and dropped it. Nina figured she knew what he was about to say anyway.

“I’m not making this up to talk to you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He made a noise. “Please. That’d be ridiculous.”

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, crossing her arms. “Yeah, ridiculous.”

There was a moment of silence. She let the hallway chatter fill her mind instead, trying to calm herself down a bit. As real as the voices were, she knew that wasn’t entirely why she’d ran to him so quickly.

“Well, what are they saying?” he finally asked, leaning an inch closer to her as if anyone cared enough to eavesdrop on two Americans’ conversation.

Before she could tell him, the voices came back. Both of their heads snapped up, and she instantly knew he was hearing it too.

_“Together… Chosen One… Osirian… only together… can it be revealed…”_

Ears ringing with the whisper, she looked down to see their hands clasped together. He realized at the same time, and they separated, looking elsewhere.

Maybe, if they hadn’t slept together, one of them would’ve asked what that was supposed to mean. But for her it was dredging up mental images she was trying to rid her mind of, proof of just how _together_ they could really be. Her skin felt like it was on fire and she could only hope her face wasn’t bright red.

When he spoke, it was more to relieve the tension than anything. “So… Sibuna?”

And then it hit them. “Oh _God,_ Sibuna,” she said, eyes widening along with his as they both had the same realization. They couldn’t avoid each other anymore, obviously. The Sibuna dynamic would have to shift a little to include him from the start this time. Maybe Jerome and Joy would want to be more involved.

But Patricia and Fabian had always been integral parts of Sibuna, and now they’d have to be around them much more than either of them had bargained for.

* * *

To say that Eddie quickly felt overwhelmed was an understatement.

He had let Nina break the mystery news herself, not wanting to be linked to her anymore than they already were supernaturally. He figured she’d gather up Sibuna in one room and tell them about the voices she’d been hearing, and he’d act surprised and mention he thought he heard a voice once, and they’d all go into it together.

Instead, two days after they held hands in the hallway, he found out she’d talked to Fabian in private first and let him do the rest.

It… set him on edge, if he were being honest. It made sense in every way why Nina ran to Eddie first. No one else heard voices like they did. No one else protected each other like they did. No one else had connected like they had—literally. He had plenty of mental images of just how _much_ they had connected.

But Fabian?

At the first full Sibuna meeting, he tried not to let it bother him. She was dating Fabian, not him. She was smiling at Fabian, not him. They were bouncing ideas off of each other like it was nothing while the rest of them sat back and wondered what significance this next mystery would have. Eddie felt Patricia glare at him whenever he laughed at the dumb suggestions Amber and Alfie had, which did _not_ help his mood.

The meeting went nowhere, but his head did.

He didn’t like their situation one bit.

* * *

The trust fall exercise the next week was unexpected and unusual, but being paired up with Eddie was somehow both of those things and neither of those things. 

Everything about it went against what they were trying to project. No, they’d never held physical contact for longer than necessary. Yes, they were acquaintances at best—acquaintances that were spiritually connected, yes, but acquaintances all the same. No, there was absolutely no sexual tension whatsoever. Why would there be? It wasn’t like they’d ever kissed. 

Because that was what people would think of first if they were suspicious in any sense. Not that they’d slept together. Of course not.

They hadn’t been sitting together prior to being paired up, so they crossed the classroom and passed their significant others and met in the middle. He greeted her with a sour expression, to which her face scrunched up.

“What? I haven’t even said anything,” she complained, not knowing where he was coming from. Recently they’d been easing into a quiet friendship—one built on a one-night stand, yes, but a friendship all the same. The look he was giving her wasn’t warranted. Even Joy and Jerome were getting along more as partners. 

Eddie chewed on his cheek for a moment before shaking his head, irritating her further. “Nothing. Just thinking of something.”

Ms. Denby moved around the room, distributing blindfolds. Nina took the opportunity to get closer to him and whisper, “If you’re thinking about _that—”_

“I _wasn’t,”_ he insisted, but with the way his lips twitched upward she wasn’t sure she believed him. Nothing about their current situation was a callback to the wedding, but she’d often found it at the forefront of her mind when it least made sense. He was everywhere; he’d _been_ everywhere.

Shaking her head, she stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest. If her cleavage was slightly more prominent after that then, well... she didn’t notice. “Your emotions are all over your face, Edde. It’s ridiculous.” Not that she thought he was talking to their friends about her, but if he was then that was just one more reason to gain suspicion. They didn’t need that. They didn’t need any of that shit.

He raised a single eyebrow at her, and her spine tingled yet again. Her arms tightened involuntarily. “Really? Because your last email _really_ said otherwise.”

Her face started heating up at the same time Denby arrived with their blindfold, handing it off to Nina and returning to the front of the class to direct. Nina went on autopilot, picking up the blindfold and staring at it too intently.

She hadn’t expected him to bring up her last email; _she_ certainly wasn’t going to. It had been sent out of a moment of weakness, something she had every intention of keeping to herself before her lack of sleep caught up with her and she hit send. He got two weeks after the previous email, the one they both thought would be the last. And then, against her better judgment, she’d caved.

He shouldn’t have brought it up.

She tied the blindfold they’d been given snugly over her eyes and turned, waiting until she heard the go ahead to fall. It wasn’t hard. She’d trusted her body with him before, and it was precisely that thought that made her face start flushing when he caught her and whispered, “But if you sent me another email? I would’ve wanted you to tell me you were coming back.”

He helped lean her back upright, and behind the blindfold her eyes were watering.

She hadn’t said anything at the time, but his lack of response when she’d asked that question had stung her. They weren’t the best of friends—in fact, they shouldn’t have been anything. She had Fabian, he was still hung up on Patricia, everyone in Anubis was watching. But they _were_ something. What, exactly, she didn’t know. Chosen One and Osirian no longer summed it up. All she knew is that if he had asked her the same question, she would’ve replied immediately with a resounding, “Yes.”

She whipped off the blindfold and swiped under her eyes once, hoping to God that was enough. When she turned and insisted, “Your turn,” holding out the blindfold, he didn’t say anything. She tried so hard not to pay attention to his gaze, but he was looking at her in a way that made her insides burn. He took the blindfold without touching her, facing the other way.

He fell back against her, her arms encircling him as they paused, almost unsure where to go from here. She guided him back up and trained her eyes on the wall as he removed the blindfold, but what use was that when she was still wrapped around him? They met eyes for an instant, one accidental, supercharged instant, and then she let her arms drop and moved a step away while he went to the front of the room for more instructions. She wished they had instructions for how to navigate everything else.

* * *

He’d only had one sex dream previously, and it was right after the wedding. It didn’t surprise him, given that it was the first time he’d enjoyed himself during sex. What _had_ surprised him was that his subconscious didn’t allow him to dream about it anymore after that.

Part of him attributed it to how much he thought about Nina already when he was fully conscious. Too much of a good thing—and she was good, no matter how conflicting he felt—was unacceptable, apparently. It didn’t matter that she was practically the only thing running through his mind at all times. When he slept, he thought of other things. He caught a break.

That stopped about three days after the trust fall exercise. She was everywhere, all the time.

And he wasn’t complaining.

* * *

The latest mystery had started off slower than expected, but when it picked up speed she was granted with something else to focus on.

Most of their clues came from Amun classrooms, which wasn’t as welcome as the mystery itself. Sibuna had struggled enough with timing and secrecy when the majority of their sneaking around was within their own house, but the school? Their time was split between the drama room and the library, acting as their meeting place and headquarters, respectively. Fabian reverted back to trusting his uncle wholeheartedly while the rest of the group preferred to keep the information close. Joy and Jerome had been informed, but after one disastrous attempt with both of them involved they opted out.

And Eddie was starting to take on a leadership role and was just as involved in the mystery as she was, as the rest of them were. She tried not to think about it.

Every time he suggested something, a quick reconnaissance plan that kept them under the radar, she accepted it with her normal level of enthusiasm. Whenever he had a bad idea that shouldn’t have formulated into a real thought, she shut it down like they all did. She had never been in the business of playing favorites, and she wasn’t entirely sure he was on that list anyway. She was worried he might’ve been.

Every time one or both of them heard a voice, she contained her immediate excitement to finally have someone sharing it with her. Sometimes she slipped up, and she could tell he did too. They grabbed at each other’s arms, getting into each other’s faces as they discussed what it meant and if they agreed with it and how it could be a little less vague, for fuck’s sake. Then she realized they were entirely too close and she backpedalled as fast as possible, updating the rest of Sibuna with what she was sure was a red face. Their connection wasn’t that important. Fabian understood the voices’ message whenever she explained it. That was all she needed.

Every time he and Patricia had a nice interaction bordering on rekindling their… _something,_ she locked away any unpleasant feelings she had. She had no part in their romance, no part in anyone’s besides her own. That’s what she told herself. She did not mentally replay the time they were sneaking through the school after hours and had rounded a corner, seconds from being spotted by Victor, when Eddie had pulled her back by her waist and hid her from view. He’d kept his hands there a moment too long, fingers practically burning on her hips. She didn’t think about that at all. It wasn’t even something she recalled very well.

Every time she lied to herself, she filed the word ‘denial’ away further and further in her brain.

* * *

It was becoming increasingly clear that being around her this much was either going to make things worse or test his reflex to reach for her every time they discussed the voices. Or when they were about to be caught. Or when she was so happy with Sibuna’s progress that she got the most gorgeous smile on her face and— 

Yeah, he pretty much wanted to reach for her all the time.

It would have been an easier habit to break if Sibuna didn’t put themselves in dangerous positions twenty-four seven. He couldn’t even count how many times they’d snuck into the school late at night, or down into the tunnels, or into the library (usually through the secret tunnel entrance, which he could get behind. That shit was cool as hell).

Tonight was one of the rare nights they stayed on the main floor of Anubis House, but that was where it stopped being an improvement. Everyone had convened in his and Fabian’s room first, something that always made him uncomfortably aware of the growing power imbalance. He wasn’t trying to overthrow Fabian as male leader, honestly. But being the Osirian gave him an added edge, and the way he and Nina bounced ideas off one another almost rivalled her brainstorming with her boyfriend. He tried not to be smug about that.

He was failing.

The meeting was only to reach a decision of where to search. The latest clue made it clear that the ground floor was important, they were just missing the _how._ Alfie suggested the kitchen, instantly thought to be a joke because of his loud stomach grumbles, but then Patricia agreed and suddenly they had a lead. Jerome opened his bedroom door when they headed out, claiming a pack of elephants were stomping through the halls. Muttered curses and a quick “Go to bed, Jerry” convinced him to let them be.

They were in the kitchen for who knows how long, using flashlights instead of the overhead light to avoid suspicion. Turns out it didn’t matter, not when Amber dropped a plate and Fabian, startled, hit the button for the garbage disposal. They barely had time to turn it off and sweep the broken pieces under the counter, scrambling into the equally dark laundry room and shutting the door before someone else was in the kitchen.

As quietly as possible, they compacted themselves into the darkest points in the room. Patricia climbed into the wardrobe, Fabian, Alfie, and Amber collapsed into the corner behind the washer and dryer but closest to the door, and Eddie found himself beside Nina, smushed against the back door. He didn’t think before pressing his shoulder as close to hers as he could without crushing her, and he didn’t question when she made more room for him to get even closer. He really tried not to think about it.

Soon enough they saw the kitchen light flicker to life and heard Trudy’s voice wafting through the door, Amber’s face apologetic as their house mother worried aloud about a broken plate. She was talking to herself, but she hadn’t called for Victor. Not yet. She shuffled around for a minute, maybe two, but with the way Eddie could hear everyone’s breathing in the room it felt a _lot_ longer. 

When there was a quiet enough lull, Alfie whispered across the room, “We didn’t leave anything out, did we?” Amber and Fabian looked at him incredulously, but Eddie thought it was relatively safe. And a good question.

He had just opened his mouth to say so, too, when Nina’s small hand clapped over it and inched closer to him in the dark. He pressed his lips together, focusing on keeping his eyes trained on the door and calming his heart rate. When his gaze slipped over to her for the third time he realized he wasn’t having luck with either of those things.

All Trudy had to do was open the door a crack and enough light would reveal the two of them. Patricia was completely hidden from view, but if the door was opened too much it’d hit Amber’s legs. She seemed to realize this, huddling into Alfie while carefully keeping her skirt in place. Eddie didn’t pay it any mind. Even Amber’s body couldn’t distract him from the one beside him.

He shut his eyes, ready to scream. He was anxious as hell, but not from Trudy finding them. His mind was spinning with all types of thoughts, none of which he wanted to have here, or around their friends, or around _Fabian._ He thought about Nina enough already. He didn’t need to think about how different this could have turned out had it only been them hiding in the dark.

After about a minute, she finally noticed her hand was still on his face and dropped it, resting on his knee instead. He didn’t say anything, although he made the connection that if he did she’d cover his mouth again. He was unbelievably tempted. He’d forgotten what it felt like to have her hands all over his face.

It didn’t hit him until it was safe to clear out, Sibuna unpacking themselves from cramped spots in the still-dark laundry room. Amber was daintily wiping dust off her skirt while Fabian and Patricia worked to pull Alfie to his feet once he explained his legs had fallen asleep. They waited a beat before clambering to their own feet, trying with all the effort in the world to act normal. They snuck out one by one, the entirety of the group between them. He breathed heavily before slipping through and easing the door behind him, glad he wouldn’t have to fake being too tired to talk with Fabian. He wasn’t about to do that.

Not when he was absolutely certain the Brit’s girlfriend was having trouble keeping her hands off him, too.

* * *

When Fabian suggested the two of them went down into the tunnels to see if they’d receive any further instructions through the voices, if the mystery was completely within the school this time or if it extended to Sibuna’s previous domains, Nina could tell Eddie was caught off guard. She was too—but neither of them refused.

She’d have been lying if she said she wasn’t using the mission to her advantage.

As they snuck into the cellar through the oven and made their way through the antechamber, amulets in hand, they stayed silent. She nearly tripped stepping through the moving bookcase and he grabbed her arm to hold her upright, but it had the opposite reaction. A spark shot through her and she didn’t need to take off her amulet to feel like she was blinded.

There wasn’t a set room they were heading toward, not that they’d discussed some type of plan. She figured they would make their way slowly through the tunnels, listening intently and maybe even trying to coax some voices to call out to them. If they made it the whole way to the end, past the chasm and the Senet board and where the mask was, then she’d talk to him on the way back.

Something had been building between them for a while, something she didn’t necessarily want to discuss but something she needed to regardless. All the random touching, the few heated glances they’d shared—it was too much. It didn’t matter if they happened under the guise of keeping the mystery under wraps. It shouldn’t have been happening. She shouldn’t have wanted it to continue happening.

“So are the mysteries normally this touch-and-go?” he broke the silence before they’d even reached the spider web room.

Her eyes snapped to him, surprised he’d spoken first. But she shouldn’t have been. He wasn’t Fabian. He started conversations that could end in arguments, either despite or _because of_ how badly they could turn. She respected it. As precarious as the house of cards they’d built was, at least each and every card was out on the table. Some of them were just upside down and turned in.

“You know,” he continued when she didn’t respond. He gestured to the quiet, empty tunnels. “Searching old stomping grounds for something that may or may not happen?”

She glanced at their surroundings, realizing just how surprised she was they hadn’t heard anything. The attic wasn’t their main mystery playground last year, but even it was in use. It’d make sense for the tunnels to play into this year’s mystery too. “Not usually, no,” she decided on saying, letting her hands trail up her arms to warm herself a bit.

It was weird. Half the time Nina could barely get through a single day of mundane activities without the voices, a clue, or _something_ making itself known to her. Now, the time they specifically tried to seek it out? Nothing. 

“Wait, this doesn’t feel right. Something’s wrong,” she said suddenly, stopping in her tracks and forcing Eddie to pause with her. She faced him head on, eyes locking onto his attentive ones. “The voices first talked to us because they wanted us to know we had to do this together. So why isn’t something happening now that we are?”

He fixed her with such an intense look that her knees almost buckled. “I was gonna bring that up, actually.” She waited. He took a breath. “I’m not sure they meant together in the… _mystery_ sense.”

Her eyes flitted over his face, trying to assess if he was serious. Oh, _shit,_ he was. She felt her face turning red. “Eddie, I know you haven’t been involved for long but that’s not how this works.” 

“Are you sure?” he posed, raising an eyebrow at her. “Yeah, you’ve had two years of practice with this whole thing, but not with the Osirian in the mix. How do you know things haven’t changed now that I’m here?”

“Because, things don’t just _magically appear out of thin air_ for you, Eddie!” she exclaimed, her frustration peaking. How could he talk about this so innocently, like there wasn’t another meaning to what he was saying?

“Who’s saying it’s out of thin air?” he challenged, taking a step closer to her. She stood her ground, even though she wanted to take a step too. Back or forward, she didn’t know. “The need for an Osirian last year didn’t happen overnight. We’re not drawn to each other like this because of one single night, Nina—”

“No!” she cut in, unable to listen to him go through it. It’d already crossed her mind enough that that night wasn’t the beginning of everything. It was just the catalyst. She exhaled and tried to calm down before adding, “We’ve already crossed that line once. We can’t do it again.”

He looked taken aback for a moment, and she hated the pinch of guilt she felt for being the one to outwardly say it. But he’d mentioned it first. They’d been dancing around discussing it this entire conversation, hell, the entire _term,_ and he’d dragged them both back into it.

Finally, his expression changed to something resembling indifference. And then he did it again. “I don’t understand how you can act like I don’t have a point about this when your last email basically said everything I’m saying right now.”

She felt like she’d been slapped in the face. She blinked at him, not fully registering he actually said it again. That he’d actually thrown her email right back at her for the second time.

“You can’t just... _drop_ something like that on someone and expect them to act like it didn’t happen,” he said when she stayed quiet. 

She couldn’t—she _wouldn’t_ let herself consider getting into this. That wasn’t what she’d been trying to do all term long. Everything was too messed up to even think about clearing the air, too complicated to tell him they couldn’t keep looking at each other in a knowing way. He couldn’t keep touching her in the smallest of ways because then she remembered the largest ways and it sent her spiraling and— 

“If what I said bothered you so much then why didn’t you _respond?”_ she blurted out, immediately embarrassed. She hadn’t meant to ask that, but it’d been weighing on her since the very first time he’d alluded to her last email. For a while she’d convinced herself it didn’t actually send, he’d stopped checking his email, he’d seen no point in opening it so he let it sit there. And then he’d brought it up and she’d regretted it all over again.

“Because I didn’t have to!” he yelled, stepping closer to her.

She didn’t miss a beat. “Why? Why didn’t you have to?”

His eyes dropped to her mouth and back up, but it didn’t happen like the last time. There was no hesitation in between his assessment and him lurching forward to kiss her, his intention clear and her brain short circuiting. 

He pulled back only a fraction of a second later, and she was left to stare at him. Some part of her wanted to be repulsed. They’d tried so hard to avoid this, to get back to the normalcy expected of them, and this was working directly against that. He watched her, undoubtedly waiting on the angry reaction she should've given him.

But she couldn’t give him that. She could only reach out and tangle her hands in his hair as her mouth latched onto his again, warm and persistent and _real._

It was like they were transported back to the wedding, where everything was easy and their bodies went on autopilot. His arms snaked around her waist as they moved backward until she made contact with the cold wall, a sharp contrast to the way her body was burning at the moment. He bit at her lip, she tugged on his hair the way she remembered he’d reacted positively to before, and they both pressed against each other with fervor.

Once again, she was overwhelmed with how natural this was. She’d never even come _close_ to this kind of intensity with Fabian, never been faced with the opportunity or made way for one. But with Eddie it just kept happening. There’d been so many openings since the beginning of the school year. This almost felt inevitable—no, scratch that. It _was_ inevitable. They’d tried and they’d failed to fight it.

This _something_ had been building from the moment she returned to Amun, since she couldn’t stop herself from hitting send on the last email, and even before they slept together. The connection couldn’t be broken because it wasn’t _meant_ to be broken. 

And she stepped into that.

* * *

By the time he noticed the hickey on the left side of his neck that night, just above where an open-collared shirt would cover, she’d been long gone with the rest of Sibuna someplace else. He’d retreated to his bedroom almost immediately following their makeout session, an unspoken agreement to distance themselves for at least the next few hours. He traced the mark in the mirror a second longer than he meant to, then buttoned up the rest of the way. Apparently he was going to be way preppier than usual for the foreseeable future.

* * *

The more she thought of him, the more they continued this, the more she couldn’t imagine it not happening.

* * *

It didn’t feel wrong to him. Truthfully it never had, not in an inebriated state or otherwise.

Patricia was a push and pull, magnets constantly switching between being polar opposites that attracted and being so similar in their reactions that they repelled. But with Nina… with Nina it was a pull, always bringing the other into safety. If either one of them pushed, it was only to see if they’d be pulled back. And he was pulling her back.

* * *

The next two weeks blurred together for her, mainly because every time the mystery got to her too much she could find comfort in a different type of rendezvous.

Eddie was similar to Fabian in all the ways that mattered. He was attentive— _extremely_ attentive, especially when something was bothering her. He was involved in the mystery so much that he referred to Anubis House as “Sibuna House” once, a mistake that Patricia chastised him for but Nina laughed at. And he had an excellent sense of humor.

But the difference was how Eddie approached those matters. If Gran’s health declined a bit, he didn’t push her to talk about it. He gave her the opening and, if she shut down, he complained about his own problems and either got her relating or got her laughing. When he fucked up keeping things secretive, he bounced back quickly instead of fumbling to fix it and making it worse. He brushed things off a lot, and his sarcasm was refreshing. And there was something to be said about how much she loved to be casually flirted with. Of course, if Jerome flirted with her she’d be disgusted.

So maybe it was just Eddie.

In any sense, he offered certain things Fabian couldn’t, their supernatural connection only being one aspect of it.

Slowly, she found herself reaching out to her American counterpart more than her British counterpart. She’d tell Fabian about Gran’s complications, but she’d let Eddie take her mind off it. More often than not that turned into a makeout session, but not every time. Sometimes he ranted to her about tv shows and let her explain a book series to him even though reading was nowhere _near_ his favorite pastime, and once—just once—he convinced her to watch a movie with him. It was animated and silly and nothing about it was romantic, but maybe that’s why she sunk into it like a familiar blanket. Everything was easy with him.

And missing classes took on a whole new meaning. Usually Sibuna was late because of the mystery, seeing the school day as an opportune time to sneak into the house and snoop through Victor’s findings. Now, Nina was late to class—only ever classes she didn’t share with Eddie, they were careful about that—because she was holed up in some obscure location getting freshly branded with new love marks. They always brushed it off as doing recon for the mystery, but at some point that would get suspicious too.

When they made out on the upper level of the library, hiding behind a bookshelf and carefully concealing any noises they made, she fully accepted how out of hand it was getting. His arms were encircling her waist and she was leaning into his touch, her hands in his hair and tugging him into her even more. Jasper was somewhere downstairs. _Anyone_ could’ve been downstairs. And what was she doing? Kissing someone who wasn’t her boyfriend.

Then he moved his attention to her throat and she had to clasp a hand over her mouth to keep a moan in, and her attention went elsewhere.

* * *

The whole of Sibuna had skipped out on school in some fashion, most of them slipping away in between classes. Patricia and Alfie were snooping around the school while the halls were empty, Fabian had snuck off to the library to peruse the books they had yet to search through, and Amber was down in the cellar. Eddie had faked a fever to stay holed up in his bedroom, and Nina did the same about halfway through the day, walking back from Amun.

But it didn’t matter where Nina and Eddie were supposed to be—separately—because they weren’t there.

The second Trudy stopped doting on Nina and Victor left the house, the front door echoing loudly, Nina had snuck downstairs to meet Eddie in his bedroom.

“I thought we were,” he mumbled against her lips, arms tightening around her waist as they stumbled backward, “doing mystery stuff.”

“We can do that,” she huffed back, her breath ghosting over his lips. She pulled back and studied him, a mischievous grin crossing her face that went straight to his crotch. “Or we could do this first.”

He pretended to consider it. “Yeah, that seems fair to me,” he agreed, tugging her back to him and planting kisses all over her neck and jaw.

She kicked her flats off and leaned into him just enough for him to get the hint. He guided her backward until they reached his bed, but neither made the move to sit down. He liked how she fit against him. He liked how she had to stand up just a little bit higher to kiss him at his height. He liked everything about it; everything about _her._

Then she pushed against him and they were falling onto his bed before his brain fully processed where they were really going with this. She nearly hit her head and he moved to cradle it, her eyes opening for a moment to stare into his. His heart thudded in his chest. She shouldn’t look at him like that. He couldn’t handle it.

He resituated so she was laying atop his chest, nipping at his neck once before returning to his lips. He let his hands slowly trail down from her face to her neck and over her collarbone, playing with the fabric of her t-shirt. Some part of him couldn’t quite comprehend that this was happening, no matter how many times they made out. The moment always felt new and invigorating, multiplied by a thousand as he began to realize this time _was_ different than their makeout sessions. But it bore plenty of similarities to their first time ever.

Still attached by the mouth, she sat up and dragged him with her. She took his shirt off with all the time in the world, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. The leisurely pace wasn’t new, but the setting was. They weren’t drunk. They weren’t in America. They were in Anubis House, and that difference already made it better. It felt real. It felt more like them, the only Americans in a British environment. They were home.

He focused on her mouth, their tongues battling in the same pattern they always did as he moved them so he was hovering over her. She shifted to part her legs and he settled in between them, hands traveling down to her hips. They were falling back into a role they’d only taken once before, but a role they knew nonetheless. He put everything he was thinking into the kiss as one of his hands began to wander.

Then suddenly she was gasping and crying and covering her mouth, pushing him away as she did so. He held her at arm’s length, confusion written all over his face even with the understanding ringing in the back of his head. He knew what this was. He knew before she caught her breath and motioned over to the other side of the room, choking out, “His bed is _right there.”_

They disentangled, his fingers itching to trace her arms and guide her through some weird breathing exercise he’d seen Amber do once. Swallowing, he looked away and waited until she collected herself, until her breathing was normal again and the tear tracks weren’t visible. When she went for the door, he frantically rummaged around on the floor until he found the tiny American flag pin she’d given him before the wedding. There wasn’t any history behind it, just the recognition that they were both Americans. One more thing to connect them.

He held it out to her with her hand on the doorknob, muttering quietly, “In case anyone asks why you were in here. Just picking up something you lost.”

Emotions flitted across her face, the barriers she’d had up before they slept together—and before they nearly did again—completely down. He could read her like a book, and she let him when she settled on sadness as she looked from the pin and back to him. In one way it was a good coverup, probably the best they could hope for right then. But in the other way? He knew what it symbolized.

It symbolized a breakup, one they wouldn’t even be allowed to grieve.

She took it back so quickly he figured she wanted to avoid grazing his hand, but she did and it sent a shock up his arm and he bit his lip to keep his face neutral while she unlocked the door and slipped out.

* * *

Acting normal around him became a chore. The normal they really knew was dimly lit rooms and hands all over each other, mouths connected and content sighs filling the air. Pretending she had no clue what his mouth felt like against hers, or what _other_ parts of him felt like against hers, was no easy task.

The mystery didn’t suffer because of it. She wasn’t going to let it. All of Anubis’s mysteries held so much importance to her and to Sibuna and to Victor, she knew she’d have to put aside her personal issues to keep it afloat.

* * *

It wasn’t a breakup, but it sure as hell felt like one.

Tiptoeing around both Patricia _and_ Nina got so complicated he stopped trying with the former, figuring it was alright. It’d been months since she’d called it quits, and really, who was he protecting by entertaining that? He hadn’t had a stray thought about Patricia since Nina ended things, since a few weeks after school started actually. 

He was so lost in Nina Land he was surprised he had enough mind to button his shirts up as high as they could, covering up the single love mark she’d given him. He didn’t want to use makeup like he knew she had to have been doing. He wanted to be able to see it, to remember who gave it to him. He’d look every day until it faded, and then he’d acknowledge that what he was feeling wasn’t the first time he was feeling it. This was a breakup. Plain and simple.

* * *

It wasn’t a new thought, imagining how perfectly his lips pressed against her collarbone or how carefully his fingers ghosted over her stomach. She still hadn’t worn the dress she’d chosen for the wedding again yet.

But the realization that she’d kissed Eddie more than Fabian now broke her more than all those things combined.

* * *

One week later saw him chilling on Alfie’s bed while he listened to Jerome’s girl problems from his own bed, hanging out with his friend as much as he was trying to focus on someone else’s issues.

Jerome had only just gotten to the point—that _yes_ he missed Mara, but Willow was there and so different and her aloofness was actually kind of endearing—when the door swung upon and in came Alfie and Amber. Eddie sat up expectantly and dreadfully, assuming they were there to collect him for mystery reasons. He was growing tired of Jerome’s story, solely because it was doing nothing to take his mind away from Nina. But if it was Sibuna time, then he’d have to see her. In close proximity. And he remembered how she’d reacted to that the last time.

But Jerome was already protesting their presence when he noticed Amber’s pajamas. Eddie slid off the bed and held his hands up in surrender, something that Amber took advantage of immediately and climbed under the covers. The roommates were arguing in a way that had him guessing this wasn’t Amber’s first time sleeping there. He quickly announced that his own roommate was sleeping and he better go do that, slipping out the door amidst Jerome’s objections and Alfie’s insistence.

Eddie stood in the hallway for a solid two seconds, laughing at his friends’ predicament before it hit him. Fabian was asleep, and Amber had just left Nina alone upstairs. His pulse spiked at the predictability of his thoughts as he shook his head, already trying to rid his mind of it. She broke up with him (technically). They weren’t together (actually). She had ended it (sadly).

His hand was two inches away from his own door when he made up his mind, changing course and walking toward the front entrance. He had always been thankful the boys were on the ground floor because then only the girls had to worry about sneaking down the stairs, but voila—he had the reverse problem. He held his breath as he ascended, eyes trained on Victor’s office door. But he had nothing to worry about, because Victor was passed out in his desk chair. Seriously, did that guy not have his own _room?_

The opening didn’t give him time to hesitate, so he cracked open the girls’ door and stepped through. He moved along the dark hallway with a purpose, and when he didn’t even glance at Patricia’s door it felt a little like he was sealing his fate. He paused in front of Nina’s door, his heart ready to beat out of his chest. But he shook his head and knocked lightly, opening it before she could reach it herself.

She got to her feet as soon as she realized who it was. “What the hell?” she whispered, already moving to close the door with him. “You can’t be here, Eddie.” Her wrist brushed against his in her attempt to put more distance between them, and his brain short circuited for a moment.

“I just needed to say something, okay?” he said quietly, all the thoughts he was trying to keep at bay springing to the forefront of his mind.

She was already shaking her head and avoiding his gaze. “Eddie, I really can’t, Amber could be back any minute—”

“Amber’s downstairs with Alfie and I know that because I was with Jerome when it happened, okay, I just want to be _around you,”_ he rushed out, ripping the bandaid off and pouring salt in his own wound all at the same time. She lifted her head at that, so he looked away. “We spent almost the whole summer together, then we slept together, and all semester long I’ve been killing myself to stay away from you but I _can’t,_ okay? Not even just as—what we were, but as Chosen One and Osirian, as Sibuna members, as anything. I just need _something.”_ He mentally cursed himself. He wasn’t sure how he was going to word all this, but now it seemed like he was begging. Which, honestly, maybe he was. His whole body was aching to be near her.

“But whatever we have to do to get back to being friends, acquaintances… whatever,” he fumbled, rolling his eyes skyward, “then that’s what I want. It’s driving me crazy that any time I know I’m going to see you I lose my shit. I can’t keep feeling like that.” He leveled her with a look then, searching her blue eyes for something and instead feeling like he was drowning in the ocean. Fuck.

Her lips were pursed, her arms not crossed but rigid. She wasn’t looking at him so much as looking _through_ him, analyzing. The silence stretched on until he couldn’t handle it anymore.

“That’s all I wanted to say, you can stop being so standoffish,” he mumbled, moving for the door. He didn’t know what he had expected. She’d made it very clear she didn’t want to be alone with him, whether it was for innocent reasons or otherwise. He was stupid for thinking she’d have anything to say about, to him. He was stupid for deeming this a good enough excuse to see her.

His hand was already on the doorknob when she said his name. Tentatively he turned around, trying to keep a careful mask over the emotions that wanted to play on his face. 

She stared at the floor for a moment, fidgeting with her fingers. He took the time to compose himself more. This whole conversation had been taxing enough; he really didn’t need her to explain what he already knew. It was Fabian, plain and simple. This whole thing couldn’t continue— “My last email.” Then she looked up at him and said, quietly but ringing loudly in his head, “I meant it. What I said.”

His breath caught, and he had to give her that. If she wanted to say one thing to keep him on her string, to ensure he wouldn’t be able to move on quickly, it was that. They’d talked about her last email several times, but he was always the one to bring it up, always using it like ammunition. It had honestly fucked him up. Even during their brief reconciliation it banged around in his head, serving as his sole proof that maybe she was feeling more of what he was feeling.

And there was the confirmation.

He swallowed hard, kept his eyes on hers because she was actually looking directly at him and he loved her eyes. “I know,” he managed, voice a lot deeper than he intended.

She continued to stare, and he wondered if she knew this was breaking him. His whole life he’d been taunted by what he couldn’t have: a father, a mother who understood, Patricia. But _her?_ Fuck, she was going to be the death of him. The Chosen One and her Osirian. He would never be able to let go completely. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

She took a tiny step closer and he realized he’d been staring at her lips the same second he flicked his gaze back up to her eyes. There was a vacant expression in them, something hollow and sad and determined all at the same time. He didn’t have a chance to analyze it before she ghosted her lips over his, the slightest of pressure but conveying so many things through it.

He stayed frozen against the door, worried if he moved then she’d move and they’d never finish whatever this was. Her name fell from his lips before he knew he wanted to say it.

She shut her eyes and nodded. “I know.” And then she leaned into him again. It wasn’t much. It was barely scratching the surface, but the dam broke inside him.

He pulled back, letting all his emotions play out on his face. “Nina, if you do that again…” He was hanging on by a thread, and her eyes said she knew that. He needed her to know that. He needed her to either cut him loose or hold him together.

_I am touching, I am grabbing._

When she leaned in again, it wasn’t soft. She had a different purpose. He reacted immediately, pulling her flush against him and opening his mouth against hers. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down to her height, both of them steadily backing away from the wall. 

He expected them to trip over something, one of Amber’s stray shoes, Nina’s bag. They ran into nothing. The shuffle over to her bed was easy, the way they fell into it was easy, the way she fit right into his arms, against him, on top of him was easy. The puzzle piece feeling was back, he realized as they breathed heavily, never parting from each other for more than two seconds. He anchored his fingers in her hair, her own hands splayed across his chest and her body pressing insistently into his.

The reality of the situation wasn’t setting in, not like it should have. He was hyper aware of everything. Every kiss pressed to his skin, every lingering touch, every single article of clothing shed. He knew it was happening. And he kissed her even harder, held her even longer, got rid of their clothes faster than he’d done anything in his entire life. He knew why it was happening, and he knew what to do. He knew what she liked.

_Everything I can’t be havin’._

As he was welcomed back into her body, her face determined yet soft and tranquil at the same time, he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew how guilty he’d feel as soon as it was over, how guilty he’d feel when he went to bed in the same room as her boyfriend, how guilty he’d feel when he woke up with morning wood and an obvious explanation as to why. But he’d be _damned_ if he was going to feel guilty as it was happening. Not after they’d danced around it all semester long. Not after he’d come to terms with Patricia’s decision to leave. Not after he’d made the conscious, sober choice to crawl back into bed with Nina. He knew what he was doing, and he wanted this.

~~_I am broken down in shame._ ~~

He wanted _her._

* * *

The problem wasn’t that they’d slept together again, that she’d laid with him in her bed, that despite their best efforts it had happened again. He hadn’t stayed with her throughout the night, he hadn’t held her hand and told her it was going to be alright.

The problem was that she wished he _had._

* * *

When Amber broke the news of Fabian and Nina’s breakup at the breakfast table, a somber look on her face and the thought that everyone was as invested in the relationship as she was, Eddie barely felt a thing. He took in the information and immediately accepted something else, mind lingering elsewhere.

That was it then. His hookups (although he didn’t like them to call them that) with Nina were bred purely out of their frustrations, both stemming from their significant others. Patricia wasn’t coming back and he had finally accepted that. Fabian was out of the picture again, something Eddie couldn’t see either one of them initiating. It didn’t matter how many times Nina kissed Eddie, she’d always have something with Fabian. They’d had something since the moment they met. So Eddie knew it was over, their moments of release were finished. That was the end of their tryst.

* * *

It wasn’t.

* * *

_Eddie,_

_I know my previous email seemed like the end of a chapter, like I closed our book. And I had every intention of leaving it like that, I promise you. But I can’t._

_There’s something about us. Some connection that, in my head, goes deeper than our supernatural tether. Maybe it’s because we’re both American and that gives us some shared experiences, or because neither of us have had normal childhoods growing up with odd families. Maybe it’s because of how “warmly” we were welcomed to Anubis in our respective beginnings. Ha._

_It’s not that I don’t feel a connection to Fabian, or that I doubt yours to Patricia. This just seems_ **_stronger_ ** _to me, somehow. Like I never have to try too hard to get my point across to you. And that means something to me. YOU mean something to me. Not just because you were my first, but because you being my first felt_ **_right._ ** _Morally it wasn’t, but in the moment… in the moment I didn’t question anything about it._

_This has been gnawing at me ever since the wedding. It won’t go away. And I know this is completely unprofessional and will only serve to muddle things further, but I had to get it off my chest._

_I probably won’t even send this, honestly. I can’t do that to you. I can’t do that to myself._

_So, in the spirit of typing things I’ll never say, here’s another: I wish we’d met two years ago. I wish I’d seen you before I headed off to Amun, or that you decided to arrive at the same time. I wish Joy had stayed long enough for my attraction to Fabian to die off, or that your thing with Patricia didn’t start. I just… I wish for the start we’ll never know we could’ve had. I wish things weren’t so complicated._

_But you’re my Osirian, and I’m your Chosen One, and that has to count for something, doesn’t it?_

_It does to me._

_Have a wonderful year._

_Nina._

**Author's Note:**

> i ALSO had no intention of nina sending an email like that at first. but then i realized in 01 i wrote it as "one of her last emails" when she tells him she's not coming back, and i was so glad i had an opening like that. 
> 
> song lyrics » it's alright by mother mother.
> 
> i'm ironicsopsychotic from youtube, so if you like my hoa vids please give this fic some love! kudos, comments, bookmarks, all that jazz.


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